Another Kiss
by PryzmKess
Summary: Complete sequel to my story One Kiss. Cursing and mild violence rating is probably just a precaution. Vegeta and Bulma face a crisis can their relationship survive?
1. The Morning After The Storm

It was a lazy summer day, and Bulma was tired of working – rather, she was tired of slaving.  "Damn machine," she growled as she threw her wench at the side of the gravity machine she was repairing.  The titanium wrench rebounded with a metallic pong, and the young woman instantly berated her herself for mistreating her tools.  But the sense of deja vu and the warm day brought to her mind the happenings of the last three weeks, and the very thing she had been trying to forget.

In some ways, they had been the best weeks of her life, and in others, the worse.  "I'm really too young for this," she whispered as pain and heartbreak settled on her again.  The pounding pain in her neck only deepened her trepidation.  "How did it go so wrong?"

"Bulma!" Yamcha's voice rang behind her, and, despite her angry words to him last time they saw one another, she felt herself grinning.  Dropping everything, she ran up to her ex-boyfriend and threw her arms around him.  But that was a mistake; feeling his warm, comforting body again only brought back the memories of another warm body, one that had been missing since last night.  

"I'm glad you could come see me," Bulma said, and she felt her tears rising as she clung to the man that had once been her life's desire.

"Bulma, I'm always here for you, and always will be, for as long as I can be," Yamcha said as he tried to step back, but Bulma tightened her arms.  Yamcha stopped pushing once he realized that her shoulders were shaking.  "Bulma?  Bulma, honey, what's wrong?"  A horrible thought seized him, and he pulled her away from him so that he could look her in the face.  "Did he hurt you?  Did he?"

In silent answer, Bulma pulled the collar of her shirt away from her neck.  Yamcha gasped at the bite mark that stained her otherwise clean skin.  "Vegeta?" he snarled, and those three syllables were filled with all the hate and anger he felt at the former Saiyan prince.  Bulma nodded wearily, and then Yamcha pulled her into his arms again.  "I'll protect you from him," Yamcha said, rocking her gently.  Bulma snorted into his chest, making Yamcha wince; she did have a runny nose and this was a new shirt.  "What?"

"Yamcha, you can't protect me from Vegeta," Bulma muttered into his chest.  "He can kill both of us without breaking a sweat."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Yamcha sighed, but even he had to admit it was true.  It was just so hard to know that Bulma knew it too.

"Only Goku can protect me from Vegeta, and we both know it," Bulma said tiredly.  

"I'll call him," Yamcha said, and headed into the house.  Bulma watched his handsome form go, but she wasn't thinking about Yamcha.  Instead, she was wondering if Vegeta would ever return – and hating that she was hoping he did.

*  *  *

Goku landed on the front lawn, and put Chichi on the ground.  Gohan set down as well, but he moved over under a tree and pulled his books out, following his parents' strict instructions.  They seemed to think that he was too young for whatever was going in.  

Yamcha rubbed Bulma's back comfortingly as the Saiyan and his wife walked over toward them.  "Hi, we're here!" Goku said cheerfully, fighting the sinking feeling as he saw the pain in Bulma's eyes.

"Are you ok?" Chichi asked, going to Bulma and putting a gentle arm around her shoulder.  Bulma accepted the half-hug as she nodded carefully – the bite was still very tender, and moving her head could sometimes make it hurt worse.  "Can I see?"

Bulma eased her shirt collar away from her neck, and both Goku and Chichi gasped.  "Oh, Bulma," Chichi whispered, pulling the woman close for a true hug.  "I know that this will make no difference right now, but it will be ok, I promise."  

Goku caught Chichi's eyes and they exchanged a husband-wife look that Yamcha couldn't translate.  He was curious about it though: while Chichi was comforting Bulma, there was something else about that shared look that was strange, something that Yamcha wasn't privy to.  "Where's Vegeta?" Goku murmured to Yamcha softly.

"He left," Yamcha snarled, clenching his fist in anger.  "He used her, and he left."  Bulma shuddered in Chichi's arms, and Goku's wife glared at the men.  Goku caught her meaning and pulled Yamcha to the side.

"Did Bulma tell you what happened?" Goku said.  "Repeat whatever she said – it's important that you give me every detail you can."

Yamcha was silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts and piecing through exactly what Bulma told him.  "They had been… together," Yamcha said the words raw with pain in his throat.  "Several times in the past few weeks.  But last night was different, she said.  Last night during the storm…"

_Bulma stared at Vegeta on her balcony, the wind whipping his hair into black flame.  Even with his back to her, he had never looked more like a prince than he did at that moment.  She carefully set her basket of clothes down, not sure, as always, that this was a moment when Vegeta wanted to be touched.  He could be funny about that._

_Bulma stepped up behind and to the right; careful to make enough noise that he would know she was there.  He didn't move, and, after a moment, she touched his shoulder.  He turned and looked at her then, and she gasped at the expression in his eyes.  It was deep and wild, utterly consuming.  These eyes belonged on a wild creature, not a civilized being._

_He pulled her to him suddenly, and Bulma gasped again, surprised at his speed.  "I love the storms on your planet," he said softly, twisted his body so that he could lay his head on her shoulder.  He wasn't looking at her – his eyes were on the flashes of lightening and the roiling cloud – but this was the most intimate that he had ever been with her.  Oh sure, they had had great sex, but this was different, and Bulma felt closer to him than she ever had.  She circled her arms around him too, and they stood there for a time, feeling the power of the storm as it battered the city._

_He straightened up and kissed her suddenly, and as the sky crackled and burned around them, Bulma thought, Wow!  It was like Vegeta was showing her a side of him that she hadn't seen before – almost as if she had found her way into an inner sanctum of Vegeta's psyche.  The kiss was deep and very good, but most importantly, it was warm in a way she hadn't felt before._

_Like he loved her._

_As if he had heard her, Vegeta broke off the kiss, looking at her intently.   "Woman, I--" What ever he was going to say was cut off by a flash of lightening that sounded like it had hit somewhere in the city.  At the same time, the expression on Vegeta's face changed, and he slid his hand up her torso to her shirt.  Bulma pulled at her buttons, starting to open her shirt, but Vegeta grasped the collar and tore it away from her.  She gasped, startled, but not scared – Vegeta had opened up an interesting world of rough sex for her, and she found herself enjoying the sensation of not being treated like glass by a man.  But she wasn't ready for this._

_Vegeta's head snapped forward, and Bulma thought he was going to kiss her neck.  But she felt his teeth against her neck, and then he was biting, and Bulma was screaming.  It felt as if his teeth were longer than they should have been, as if the tips of them were sinking into parts of her that had never been touched before, a violation that went to the core of her being._

_Suddenly the pressure of his teeth was gone, and Bulma threw herself out of his arms, clapping a hand to her neck.  When she looked at that hand, it was red with blood.  "You son of a bitch!" she screamed at him.  "What the hell do you think you're doing?"_

_Vegeta was staring at her, something very like regret passing over his face.  Then his expression changed to one of fear, and he whispered, "You trapped me.  This wasn't supposed to happen."_

_"You're whining?  You're whining!?" Bulma shrieked, pointing at her neck.  "Hello, I'm the one bleeding!"_

_"You have no idea what that means!" he shouted at her, balling up one strong fist.  "You have no idea what you have done to me!"_

_Bulma sputtered stupidly, shocked beyond words.  He bit her, and then complained about her?  Her anger finally gave her a voice.  "Get out!" she screamed at him, pointing out into the storm.  "Get the hell away from me!"_

_He looked at her for a long moment, and then complied with her demand.  Before Bulma's astonished eyes, he was just gone.  "Damn," Bulma gasped, holding her shoulder gently as she stumbled into the bathroom to clean the wound._

"That's it?" Goku said carefully.  "Did she mention anything else?"

"No, should she?" Yamcha asked.

"Well, between you and me, there's more here than you think," Goku said, scratching his hair speculatively, his eyes troubled.

"That doesn't matter," Yamcha said.  "When I find him, I'll kill him somehow."

Goku sighed in frustration.  How did you explain a biological difference that bordered on the mystical when you had no words for it yourself?  How did you explain it when your best friend or your wife was bleeding from it?  "I don't think that will be necessary," Goku said.  "Bulma has a way of dealing with her own problems."

"Are you nuts?" Yamcha shouted, causing Gohan to glance up from his books in surprise.  "He could kill her without thinking about it!  You can't leave her to his mercies!"

"We are talking about Bulma, right?" Goku said with a chuckle, turning to look at the women.  "It's really more like leaving Vegeta to her tender mercies.  Don't think that he won't pay for this, but the payment will mean more if Bulma receives it herself."

Yamcha stared at him, not sure what to think. He respected Goku immensely, yet Bulma's red nose and pain-filled eyes seemed to demand an answer from him, personally.  "You talk like you know this will be okay," Yamcha said.

Goku pulled his eyes away from his wife and Bulma and met Yamcha's.  "It will be, Yamcha, if you let it be," he answered.  "The one who'll get hurt the most if you interfere will be Bulma."  He watched the anger roll through the young fighter, and he wondered what the man would do.

Chichi pulled Bulma away from the men, noticing the woman's gentle trembling.  That really worried her; Bulma wasn't physically strong, but she had always been mentally and emotionally strong.  "Bulma, why are you shaking, dear?"

Bulma gave her a feeble smile.  "My nerves are shot, I think," she said softly.  "I threw up before you got here."

Chichi forced herself not to freeze in shock.  "Bulma, have you been feeling ill a lot lately?  Tired?  Abnormally hungry?"

Bulma frowned with thought.  "You know, I have been really burnt out lately.  And I did feel a bit ill yesterday, though I didn't throw up then."  She laughed suddenly, a stressed, tight sound.  "You going to tell me I'm pregnant or something?"

Chichi didn't laugh; she just tightened her arm around Bulma's shoulders, careful not to apply pressure to her neck.  Bulma's laugh died slowly as she realized what Chichi's look implied.  "Oh, no," she whispered and sank to her knees; Chichi let her kneel down but didn't let go of her friend.

"It's only a possibility," Chichi said gently, settling beside her.  "And only you know if it is even possible.  But you should look into it, if it could be an issue."  She pulled the older woman gently against her, letting Bulma collapse against her like a lifeless doll.  "Goku and I are here to help; I probably know better than anyone else what you're going through."

Yamcha watched Bulma sink to the ground, her eyes wide and empty like a lost child's.  He saw her tears spring up fresh again, and he trembled.  And when Bulma sank against Chichi like a puppet with cut strings, Yamcha snapped.

"Vegeta!" the fighter screamed as he pulled up his ki.  Powered by a rage that had never touched the laid-back human before, he blasted off into the sky.  He quickly opened himself to the feel of the ki of the world, and he felt Vegeta's somewhere to the south.  With a scream, he flew south, following the feel of that alien ki like a shark following the scent of blood.

Bulma and Chichi both jerked as Yamcha screamed, and both women looked up in time to see the fighter screaming off to the south.  "Yamcha?" Bulma shouted, even as she knew that he wouldn't hear her.

"He's after Vegeta," Goku said, powering up himself.  He should be able to catch the impetuous human before he caused too much trouble, but then again, Yamcha was personally outdoing himself today.

"You have to stop him!" Bulma cried.  "Vegeta will kill him."

Goku nodded once, giving Bulma 'The Look', the one that he always gave as he went to save the day.  He burst skyward, trying to catch Yamcha.  "Goku!" Chichi shouted.  "Explain to him about oaks!"

Goku spun to face them, waving quickly to let Chichi know that he had understood.  He spun back, twisting to follow Yamcha's shining white trail in front of him, but even his hurry couldn't erase the big grin that was now cutting across his face.  "Welcome to the world, Trucks," he muttered happily, then focused on catching up to Yamcha.

*  *  *

Vegeta's face was expressionless as he slammed his fists into the granite face, and not even the keenest observer could have seen any indication of the thoughts that raced through the prince's mind.  

I'm trapped here.  I've succumbed to the tricks that women pull.  She's tricked me and trapped me to this ball of mud she calls home.

A spike of ki to the north broke through the prince's mental ramblings, and Vegeta turned to look.  The ki signature was clearly Yamcha's, and Vegeta wondered what that weakling wanted.

Yamcha could feel Goku behind him, but he ignored the approaching Saiyan as his target came into view.  "Vegeta!" he screamed as he flung his hands forward and released a ball of writhing energy.  

Vegeta's eyes widened as the human slowed and screamed his name.  The prince's confusion didn't effect his fighting though; when Yamcha's energy burst flared toward him, he easily sidestepped the attack.  The power level of the assault was unusual for the human fighter, and Vegeta turned to face his opponent warily, wondering what other surprises he was going to face in this fight.  Why the weakling had a death wish was a question that he would find the answer to after he had taken his frustrations out on the enraged human.

"Well, well, looks like someone had his vitamins this morning," Vegeta mocked, a smirk twisting his face.  "You're actually going to make this interesting."

"This is for Bulma," the human seethed, "and for what you did to her!"  He rocketed toward the Saiyan, fists extended.  Vegeta had only a fraction of a second to drop into a defensive stance, but that was all the prince needed.  The human's words sunk in as the fight began in earnest, and Vegeta felt rage bubble up through him.  She had told him about last night.  The woman had shared their most intimate moment with this fool, and now everyone knew Vegeta's weakness.   And the rage that thought unleashed powered the prince to a peak of madness.


	2. Can he do this?

"This is for Bulma," the human seethed, "and for what you did to her!"  He rocketed toward the Saiyan, fists extended.  Vegeta had only a fraction of a second to drop into a defensive stance, but that was all the prince needed.  The human's words sunk in as the fight began in earnest, and Vegeta felt rage bubble up through him.  She had told him about last night.  The woman had shared their most intimate moment with this fool, and now everyone knew Vegeta's weakness.   And the rage that thought unleashed powered the prince to a peak of madness.

The two men flew at one another, fists and feet meeting in a deadly dance.  Yamcha threw an elbow into Vegeta's face, only to have the Saiyan catch his elbow with a gloved hand.  Vegeta got his surprise too, when a follow-through strike that should have taken the human in the gut instead was defected low by his arm.

Goku pulled up short, staring at the fight before him.  Yes, Vegeta was obviously going to win, but Yamcha wasn't making it an easy victory.  There was no way that the human should have been able to do this well, but the crazed, desperate look of love on his face answered that question.  Goku held himself short for just a bit longer, waiting for the moment just before Yamcha lost; letting the two men pound on one another for some time might not be bad for either of them.  But when he saw that moment, he darted forward without hesitation and deflected the Saiyan's last blow, knocking it wide.

"Enough," Goku said commandingly.  Vegeta's eyes narrowed dangerously, but he drifted back from the other two men.  Goku turned to the panting human and said, "Go home, Yamcha."

Yamcha's eyes widening in rage and he silently shook his head.  "No," he finally gasped, his voice rasping in his throat.  "Not until someone makes him pay."

"This is something that you can't understand," Goku told him, his voice softening with pity.  "Vegeta's done nothing wrong to her."

"He bit her!" Yamcha screamed, his ki rising dramatically again.  Vegeta growled in response and the human started to go through Goku to get to him.

Goku snatched his old friend by his shirt and shouted, "And I did the same to Chichi on our wedding night!  It's a Saiyan custom.  I think."

"And one that should not be told to outsiders," Vegeta snarled, angry that his weakness was being explained so openly.

"You can take your custom and shove it!" Yamcha shouted.  "It's violent and stupid and it sucks!"

"The sting of your words is too great for me," Vegeta snapped, his tone both angry and sarcastic. 

"Yamcha, go home," Goku said, fighting anger himself.   "I won't tell you again."  He couldn't explain, not in words, what the bite meant, and to hear Yamcha demean it, even unknowingly, was bringing him close to losing his own temper. 

"And make sure that it is your home," Vegeta growled.   "Don't go sniffing around my woman."

"Bulma!  Her name is Bulma, you damn caveman!" Yamcha shouted.  With a last angry glare at Goku, he took off toward Capital City, his muscles sore and his heart breaking.

The two Saiyans stared at one another for a long time.  Finally Goku said, "How long you planning to stay here?"

Vegeta's eyes narrowed at him.  Finally, the Prince shrugged as an answer.  "As long as it takes."

"For what?" Goku asked.

"For people to forget what happened," Vegeta said, his voice catching with anger.  

"Bulma won't forget," Goku answered.  "And you won't be able to ignore this either."

"I can do whatever I want," the Prince hissed angrily.

"Well, you see, there's something else going on here, now," Goku said, scratching his head as he tried to remember exactly how Chichi had told about the oaks.

"What can you possibly think would change my mind?" Vegeta growled, turning his head to stare away from his fellow Saiyan, his dark eyes pensive.

"Well, you know how some trees are harder to push down than others?" Goku said awkwardly, sure that this was not the way that Chichi had told it, but not really remembering how it started.

"I do not have time for this," Vegeta snarled, rolling his eyes back to the younger Saiyan.  "I don't need a horticultural lesson from you."

"No wait!" Goku cried, holding out a hand to stop him from leaving.  "Darn it, Chichi explained it so well; I just can't remember how to start it."

"What did your braying wife tout out to you?" Vegeta snapped.

"Why some oaks are like adults, and some are like babies," Goku said, beating on the sides of his head as if to jar the thoughts loose.  "And you have to be gentle with the little ones, cause they're fragile like babies, and they're too easy to uproot.  Except that wasn't it at all!"

Vegeta had frozen at the word "babies".  "Say it straight, fool," Vegeta finally growled.  "Is this about Bulma?"

"Yes, Chichi said that I had to explain to you about oaks, like she did for me when Gohan was born," Goku answered cheerfully, "so that I knew not to hurt him by accident.  I guess that means that you're going to be a daddy."

Vegeta stared at him in open horror before powering up and blasting away toward the east.

"Huh," Goku said, scratching the back of his head.  "Why did he do that?"

*  *  *

"I can't believe this," Bulma sobbed, staring in shock at the little white stick.  The indicator mark had long since faded, but she couldn't stop looking at it, waiting for the negative indicator to magically pop up.  Since the positive indicator had long since come and gone, she was logically sure that it wasn't going to happen.  But still she stared, hoping and waiting.

"Bulma?" Chichi called through the bathroom door, but Bulma ignored her for now.

"Vegeta, where are you?" she whispered.  "This is your mess too."

"Bulma, honey, I'm coming in," Chichi called again, and the door opened.  She didn't need to ask how the test came out; the answer was written all over the woman's face.  "Can I get you something?"

"Yeah," Bulma answered.  Her next words came out in a scream, "You can get me that bastard who put me in this position!"

Chichi flinched slightly, glad that Gohan was well outside of the hearing range of the angry woman.  "How about I get you something that I actually have a shot of being able to do?" she tried again.

Bulma stared at the floor for a second, and then stood up.  "Tell me what I can expect from this," she said.  "Tell me how to be a mother to a half-Saiyan, because I think that I'm stuck by myself with this."

*  *  *

A father. No, it was impossible.  He couldn't do it.  He couldn't be a father.  He had no idea how to do it.  He had no idea how he could possibly even begin to be one.

And the woman?  She was strong, and brave, for one of her kind.  She would be fine without him meddling, without fights over how to raise the brat.

His brat.  His half-Saiyan warrior to be.

He really couldn't do this.

A baby.  A tiny, annoying mewling infant that would be helpless.  The woman would want to coddle and pamper it; he would have trouble resisting the urge to drown it like a rat when it cried.

Vegeta stood up, aware that there were only two routes left to him now.  One led back to Bulma.  The other was to go off-planet.  He could probably make it to the prototype spaceship that the woman's father had been constructing, and it could take him away.

Yes.  Away from the horror that was to come, away from the screaming brat and tiny diapers and ridiculous toys and complex rules of baby-care and that demanding woman who would insist he embrace it all; away to somewhere he could fight and become as strong as he deserved to be.

His mind made up, Vegeta floated northwest-ward, heading toward both his salvation and his terror.

*  *  *

Bulma lay in bed in the dark room, running over the lists of things that she had to.  Her parents were being incredibly supportive, offering their concern and help to her.  The memory of their selfless offers over the dinner meal brought helpless tears to her eyes.

"No!" she shouted into the room.  She sat up hurriedly and pulled her robe on over her pajamas, urging herself onward, "If I can't sleep, then I won't lay here crying helplessly either!  I have a ton of things to prepare, and I can't waste a moment."

She dashed down to the lab, her mind seizing on the problems that lay before her eagerly.  She had to keep busy, she thought to herself as she dashed into her office, snatching her laptop off her desk before racing down the corridor to her personal lab.  "Stevens could handle the Plastics Division while I'm away, but I can't trust Myers to pick his nose, much less handle Metallics," she muttered to herself as she punched the code into the door.  She pushed the door open with her butt as she flicked up the light switch.

Vegeta froze, half-in the spaceship.  Bulma similarly froze.  They stared at each other in silence, Vegeta in silent terror and Bulma in broken-spirited tiredness.  The first to move was Vegeta's eyes; against his will, they flicked toward her neck, where a bandage covered her skin.

"Perfect, Vegeta," Bulma broke the painful silence.  "Just perfect."  

Vegeta stepped out of the spaceship, looking uneasily at her.  "I—"

"Don't care, Vegeta," Bulma said coldly.  "Don't want to hear it.  Just get, and don't let the atmosphere slam you in the ass on the way out."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as his mask of uncertainty fell away to be replaced by anger.  "Fine," he snarled.  "I will not be rejected again by you."

"Rejected?" Bulma shrieked, her cold composure becoming blinding rage as she strode up to the Saiyan.  "Let me tell you something about rejection, buster!  Rejection is having your boyfriend bite you on the freaking neck and leave you bleeding—"

"You ordered me out of your room!" he shouted back, leaning forward like he always did in a fight.  

"—and then knock you up and go off-planet!" she finished angrily, leaning forward just as much.

"You just told me to leave!"

"Yeah, when I saw your ass hanging out of the spaceship!" she screamed, waving her hand at the offending ship.  "Of course, you never think to wait for permission, do you?"

"I will not have this irrational argument with you, woman.  I'm done here," Vegeta snapped.

"And that's it," Bulma answered, crossing her arms as she straighten her back up, calm again without warning.  "You're done with me, and now you're going."  She leaned tiredly against a nearby table, emotionally exhausted.

"This isn't about you," Vegeta moaned furiously, his hands curved into claws of frustration before him.  "This is about me!  I can't be a father!"

"You seem to have started the process well enough," Bulma sighed as she rubbed her bandaged neck, not even sure that she wanted to argue the point anymore.

"I don't have time for this," the Saiyan whispered, more to himself than her.  "I can't do this."

"Like I have all the time in the world for a freaking baby!" Bulma shouted, her energy coming back in a maddened rush.  "I didn't ask for this Vegeta!"

"Neither did I," the Saiyan pointed out quietly.  He moved over to lean against the table next her.  He didn't look at her, but she felt better with him just being close.

"But we can do this together," Bulma said to him.  "You and me and the baby, whatever sex it is."

"A son," Vegeta said distractedly, crossing his arms.

Bulma blinked at him, frowning.  "How do you know?"

Vegeta looked at has as if she had lost her mind.  "Because it is from my seed," he explained.  

"You arrogant ass," Bulma sighed, but she was smiling as she said it.  They leaned against the table silently together for a moment, while both gathered their courage.  Finally, Bulma asked, "So what now?"

Vegeta blinked at her, as if he had forgotten she was there.  "I cannot do this," he said, his voice dark with defeat.

Bulma's face twisted with rage, and she screamed wordlessly as she pushed herself off the desk.  "I can't believe you!" she howled.  "You are such an ass!  God, what was I thinking, to sleep with you?"

Vegeta moved away from the table, heading toward the spaceship.  Despite herself, Bulma turned to watch him.  And at the doorway of the ship, he paused.  Before her astonished eyes, he turned and looked at her, his face unreadable.  He moved back toward her, as she held her ground, uncertain.

He stopped before her, his eyes those empty mirrors that Bulma had started to hate.  Then he put his arms around her, and Bulma folded with relief into his chest, feeling her relieved tears start.  "Don't worry," she sobbed, "I'll help you figure out what you're doing.  And Goku can help—"

Vegeta laid a finger on her lips.  "Shh, woman," he murmured and lowered his lips to hers.  The kiss was magnificent, like the one that he had given her the night before; warm and tender and so close to loving.  She responded happily, glad that she wasn't going to be alone in this. 

Vegeta broke off the kiss, looking deeply into her eyes.  "Good-bye, woman," he murmured.  "Take care of the—my brat."  

She stared at him with disbelief, the situation changing too fast for her to react at all.  He gently released her and walked to the spaceship.  This time, he didn't look back as he climbed in, or as he powered up the ship, or as he eased it out of the lab.  He didn't look back at her once, and he vowed that he wouldn't anymore.

*  *  *

Bulma sat on the lab floor feeling wooden and lifeless.  Suddenly, she began to giggle, and she clapped her hand over her mouth.  All that did was muffle the giggles, and before long, she was rolling on the floor, clutching her stomach in pain as she laughed hysterically.

Finally, she fell silent, staring at the lights shining from the high ceiling overhead.  "You ass," she whispered quietly to the ceiling.  Finally, she collected herself and rose to her feet, straightening her clothes.  "Time to forget you," she muttered quietly, "time to get busy.  I have so much to do, and so little time to do it."

She opened the laptop, peering at the document that popped open.  "Lets see; Stevens gets Plastics.  Newman for Metallics?  I'll have to ask Jerry…"  She threw herself into her work, and if silent tears trailed down her face, they didn't slow her at all.

~finis~


End file.
